


a variable way of knowing

by Anonymous



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: 2021 season au, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Domestic, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, POV Outsider, also in case anyone is worried: this is on the tame side of abo, and if i write any in the future it also will be in this vein, basically: alpha alex helping his teammate and new friend omega max, nothing graphic; just the implication that he is in fact a Bad Parent, who is freaking the f out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Max has never been one to hide his scent. Generally, Alex doesn't mind it; it can be distracting, but it's just another part of Max Verstappen that he's grown accustomed to since becoming teammates.Plus, after almost an entire season together, Alex feels its safe to say that he's scented about every emotion possible off of Max. At least, hewould'vefelt comfortable with that assumption, had he not walked into the garage today and immediately been enveloped by the most nausea-inducing scent he can imagine.Now, standing outside of Max's driver's room, he's worried.
Relationships: Alexander Albon & Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen
Comments: 18
Kudos: 176
Collections: Anonymous





	a variable way of knowing

**Author's Note:**

> my first f1! be gentle with me lol :')
> 
> i have my squicks with abo, but ultimately i do find myself drawn to the trope and the way i write it tends to be on the tamer side, if that's a concern you share!

Alex is panicking.

Okay, not  _ panicking _ , exactly, but… worried.

Max, despite being one of the few omegas on the paddock, has never been shy about his scent. This isn’t uncommon in itself—after all, to get as far as they had, all the drivers and personnel have to be somewhat immune to dynamic-based bullshit both societal and physiological. Alex can’t count the number of times Lando’s scent has spiked sweetly around him out of pure excitement, and Charles, though often more subtle, has the sort of scent that makes him impossible to ignore—and he isn’t keen on being ignored. 

However, as with everything else about him, Max Verstappen is just a little bit more intense. 

Alex can easily recall the fairly awkward days in PSHE going over everything there is to know about dynamics. Given that scents affect almost every social interaction they’ll ever have, he and his classmates had been taught the importance of scent control from a young age. By the time they finished school, nearly all of Alex’s peers had completely mastered it. Alex isn’t sure what the Dutch equivalent of PSHE is, but he’s starting to think that Max must’ve missed out on all of the lessons.

To put it simply, Max doesn’t  _ do _ scent control. 

Alex isn’t sure why, and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. It seems to just be a fact of life at RBR: Max will let you know how he’s feeling, whether you like it or not. When he’s angry, the entire garage is practically drenched with the smell of thoroughly pissed off omega, and everyone knows to keep their distance. The trade-off, Alex supposes, is how good it feels to be around a happy Max. Even when Alex hasn’t placed particularly highly, being around Max after a win fills him with enough satisfaction to last a week and a half. The rest of the crew is largely the same, not in small part because the paddock is so alpha-dominated. As if a win or podium wouldn’t be enough, the metaphorical tail in their alpha hindbrains wags all the harder when their omega smells so content. 

Having spent the better part of a season together already, Alex had basically assumed that he’d scented about every emotion possible off of Max. Happy, sad, angry, nervous—the past season had had plenty of ups and downs. They’d even hung out a bit more outside of work toward the end of the season, thanks to Lando. So, yeah. Maybe not close yet, but familiar. He’d thought that to be a fair enough assumption. 

Unfortunately, the way he immediately chokes on air when he walks into the garage for the day begs to differ. Alex doesn’t know how he would describe the scent, aside from the fact that it’s bitter enough to make him nauseous. The engineers and mechanics are all working in hushed tones, shifting nervously and some even covering their noses. 

Alex steps further into the garage and, unsurprisingly, it only gets more potent. As he walks through, it doesn’t take him long to locate the epicenter—Max’s driver’s room. Alex stares at the door at a loss. Christian is nowhere in sight, nor anyone else Alex feels he could turn this over to, but the idea of actually going in and confronting Max himself turns his stomach.

Alex can hear soft whining from inside. It sounds like Max, it  _ smells _ like Max, but it’s still impossible for Alex to connect the Max he knows with the picture he’s imagining beyond the door. 

But in the end, he has to, doesn’t he?

Fuck it.

“Max?” he calls, knocking lightly on the door. 

The whining stops. Alex can still hear Max breathing through the door, but he’s clearly making no move to let Alex in. 

“Max, can I come in?” Alex tries. Max’s scent is making Alex’s alpha brain go haywire, and all he wants to do is bust the door down, pull Max into his arms, and keep him safe from whatever is making him smell like that. Alex can’t do that, obviously—even if he actually wanted to, which he’s not sure that he does—but he can’t just walk away either. 

Alex is acutely aware that whatever happens next is going to alter their relationship, for better or worse. 

“I’m gonna come in,” Alex says, “alright, here we go.” 

He slowly pushes open the door. Max is folded into himself in the corner of the couch, half into his fireproofs, top half enveloped in a vaguely familiar oversized jumper, looking absolutely miserable. He has the state of mind to recognize Alex (presumably), but he seems out of it, eyes rimmed red and lips parted like he can’t quite help it. 

Alex shuts the door. The drivers’ rooms are overhyped cubicles and don’t provide that much privacy either way, but. He knows Max would want him to, if he was conscious enough to notice. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alex asks. Every mental instinct he has is telling him to run. He and Max aren’t close like that, at least not yet, and the friendship that is growing between them is still so tenuous. Even so, Alex knows that turning tail now would be infinitely worse. He’s come this far; he has to send it. 

Max silently sticks out a hand. Alex isn’t sure what he wants, but he hesitantly takes it, feeling completely out of place hovering over him.

Max tugs abruptly, pulling Alex down to sit next to him on the couch. “Hold my hand, dickhead,” he says, and Alex lets out the breath he’d unintentionally been holding.

“My heat is next week,” Max says after a beat. “It’s planned, and it won’t affect the race at all. But it’s just… difficult.”

Alex swallows hard. “I know what that’s like.” And he does, having gone through ruts himself since he presented at 16. “But you’ve had heats during the season before, did something else happen? It’s just that—your scent is really strong right now. And not the happiest.”

Max frowns, glancing at Alex briefly through long lashes before fixing his eyes on the wall ahead of them. “I wasn’t expecting my dad to show up this race.” 

Alex’s blood runs cold. 

“Did he say anything? Do anything?” Alex asks, trying (and probably failing) to mask his concern. As far as Alex knows, the press hasn’t caught wind of anything, but Jos’s displeasure with his son being an omega isn’t exactly a secret in the motorsport realm. Growing up around Max, it would’ve been impossible not to notice it, especially with all the stories circulating about Max’s father. Even now, Jos doesn’t make much of an effort to hide the fact that he had expected—if not  _ required _ —Max to be an alpha like him. 

“Nothing worse than usual,” Max says, voice thick. “I just—“ 

Alex watches Max’s face crumple, and fuck, he’ll readily admit that it’s not just an alpha-omega instinct thing that makes his heart ache with the need to keep Max from ever looking like that again. 

He can also readily admit that he’s not ready or able to respond to this, at least in the way Max needs. 

“Do you want me to get someone?” Alex asks, because what else is he supposed to do? Alex has known Max since childhood, sure, but they’ve never been all that close, even now as they’re actually becoming friends. He’s seen Max cry before, and vice-versa, but crying over a DNF at 12 is one thing. It had never, ever been anything like this. 

“Daniel,” Max whispers. 

Alex nods and drops Max’s hand, moving to the door practically in a stupor. Max makes a mournful sound seeing him go, but when Alex turns back, Max closes his eyes and urges him forward. 

He was definitely shaking, Alex thinks distantly. He wonders if he looked down at his own hands whether they’d be shaking, too.

The mechanics give him a wide berth as he exits the garage, as do the rest of the passersbys as he makes his way down the paddock. He hadn’t been close enough to really scent Max, but at this point  _ he _ probably smells distressed enough to be notable. 

He walks into the McLaren garage, barely sparing a thought to the fact that he clearly isn’t supposed to enter. Nobody notices him at first as his eyes slide over the various personnel running around, but he doesn’t make it very far before an indignant staffer in orange stops him.

“Hey! What are you doing?” The woman asks, and Alex feels himself snap back from the daze he’d been in.

“Is Daniel here? It’s urgent,” Alex says, hoping that the need is clear enough in his voice. 

The woman’s eyes widen a fraction before nodding and pulling Alex further into the garage. “He should be in a meeting right now, this way.” 

She leads him to the McLaren hospitality, neither of them sparing a thought to the few weird looks they get along the way. Thankfully, with qualifying happening in a couple of hours, most are too caught up in their own tasks to notice Alex making his way into enemy territory, so to speak. Alex alone wouldn’t get many headlines, but he doesn’t want any of this to be tied back to Max somehow, especially with Max’s omega status being a particular unasked for focal point by the media. 

As they walk down a hallway, a door opens, Lando laughing as he exits an office. Alex watches Lando catch sight of him, eyebrows furrowing. Just as he’s about to speak, they all stop short when a growl sounds out from the office. 

A beat later, Daniel appears in the doorway, looking apologetic but stressed. He wipes his hands on the sides of his pants, scanning the hallway, eyes landing on Alex.

“Sorry, I—Max? Is he here?” Daniel asks. 

“No, but he needs you,” Alex says. “I’ll explain on the way.”

Daniel nods absently at Lando and the staffer as he quickly leads the way back out of the hospitality. Alex can practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of him, a far-cry from his usual self, but Alex has to commend his self-control. To an outsider, nothing would seem too amiss with the pair of them making their way down the paddock. 

“What happened?” Daniel asks, pitching his voice low enough that nobody except Alex could listen in. 

“His father is here,” Alex says. “Unexpectedly. I don’t know what happened, exactly, but that with his heat next week… He’s freaking out.” 

They make it to Red Bull’s area. “Where?” Daniel asks, anger and worry bleeding into his voice and scent. 

“Driver’s room,” Alex answers, and Daniel breaks into a jog entering the garage. 

Alex follows on autopilot, unsure of what exactly his role is beyond this. 

Before they reach the door, it bursts open as Max steps out, eyes locking on Daniel immediately. They slide into each other’s arms almost magnetically, Max shakily pressing his face into Daniel’s neck as Daniel’s scent starts to overpower his. 

After a moment, Daniel carefully starts to maneuver Max back into the driver’s room. As he shuts the door behind them, he flashes Alex a quick smile in thanks. 

Daniel and Max… Alex supposes it’s not all that surprising. Alpha-omega friendships don’t have to develop into anything more, especially in motorsport where they dedicate their lives to competing with each other. But Alex has seen firsthand just how comfortable Max is around Daniel, and how his mood instantly lifts whenever he gets the chance to talk about him. 

Plus, it’s unquestionable that Max has grown so much since he and Alex were running in the same circles in karts. Max had never been cold, exactly, or as overly-aggressive as some like to believe, but his reputation preceded him. Whether by nature or his father’s design, he’d mostly stuck to himself—and presenting as an omega surely didn’t help, what with all the prejudice that still hasn’t been stamped out in the sport. 

Max is different, now, or maybe it’s just that he’s finally gotten the opportunity to let himself be a little more open with his true self. Either way, Alex knows that Daniel—jovial, loud, physical-embodiment-of-the-sun Daniel—was a major part of that shift. 

As Max’s bitter scent is slowly replaced by a sweeter mix, Alex remembers, suddenly, where he’s seen the jumper Max had been wearing before. If anything, Max is a bit bulkier than Daniel in the arms and chest; Alex smiles to himself as he wonders which one of them went out of their way to pick the biggest one out of Daniel’s wardrobe to lend. 

**Author's Note:**

> here we are! please leave kudos/comments you enjoyed, i'd love to hear what you have to say! i love discussing this type of au and i might do future installments if anyone is interested. i just have so. many. thoughts. about all of them here (even the ones I only mentioned like lando and charles) and i want to talk about them TT lol
> 
> some actual notes:
> 
> This is minor, but I’m not from England, so I don’t really know if PSHE would cover this kind of thing lol. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong! However, I do know that Alex’s school has dedicated PSHE lessons so that much ought to be accurate at least. 
> 
> Additionally, and this is just sad shmoop time, consider it canon in this au that Max actually DID miss out on those sorts of lessons because J*s had him too involved in karting. And perhaps he’s a little insecure about it now because surely it’s too late to learn something that even kids know how to do, right? :’)


End file.
